Into The Fire
by Late2SGA
Summary: The weeks since the Expedition's return to Pegasus have been hard on Sheppard, who has had nightmares, insomnia, run-ins with Wraith and the IOA, and just when he thinks he can relax... The third tale in a sort-of trilogy with 'Underlying Cause' and 'Override'. Takes place S3, between Return II and Echoes. Team fic.


~ Into The Fire ~

Author's Note: This story begins right after 'Override', so it's the third story (Underlying Cause, Override, Into the Fire) crammed into the period between Return II and Echoes. It's not necessary to read 'UC' or 'Ovrr' first, but it would probably add to the overall sense of what has been happening prior to this tale.

Another Author's Note follows the story.

Word Count: 6427

Characters: Sheppard, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, Lorne, Weir, Beckett, Chuck.

Warning: Vague reference to past events in Return I/II and upcoming events in Echoes.

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John Sheppard slowly straightened his spine and infinitesimally shifted his left leg. He wiggled each toe carefully and by a sequence of imperceptible muscle movements managed to lessen the cramping and restore full circulation. His sweat-damp sleep shirt stuck to his shoulders. His wrists ached and he'd lost feeling in some of his fingers, despite slowly sliding each digit back and forth. Behind the mien of calmness he was trying to account for all possible scenarios in order to estimate, with a reasonable margin for error, how long it would take his team to figure out that something was wrong.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Rodney McKay paused with the spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth as he counted Teyla's fifth neck-stretching perusal of the mess hall. "He's not coming," he announced.

Teyla halted her visual search and settled back into her chair. She reached for her glass of juice and took a small sip. "Do you not find it a matter of concern that John is not here? He is normally a very early riser," she elaborated.

"Not today." Ronon bit the end off the sausage link he had impaled on an upright fork. "With what he's been through lately." He turned his head slightly to direct his gaze at the table where Elizabeth Weir and the IOA representative were dining.

Rodney could observe the table without altering position. Elizabeth maintained a pleasant smile. Her 'diplomatic face', Rodney was certain. Her companion ate sparingly. Rodney lowered his brow. The man's actions had made their return to Atlantis unnecessarily uncomfortable and his mere presence was causing complications and delays. Not to mention his conscious interference. Over two weeks of following IOA bureaucrats' useless agenda had made everyone in the city irritable. What was it with the IOA that they all believed they had the experience to make how-what-when decisions about Atlantis with zero actual knowledge of, well, anything in Pegasus. Rodney chewed forcefully. Sheppard had managed to limit his own interactions with the little man, thereby lessening his personal frustration. The colonel kept reminding everyone just to 'hang in there'.

"John must still eat," Teyla contended. "And he ate very little during all of yesterday."

Rodney didn't disagree, but then, Sheppard seemed to be able to exist on air, or maybe he'd found a way to have room service in his quarters. If Rodney could have his own meals delivered to the lab, he'd be working on his computer instead of waiting to dance attendance on Great-Aunt Madge. What was it Sheppard called him? Twiddle. They were twiddling their thumbs.

Teyla wouldn't let go. "I am concerned."

"Is the city sinking?" Rodney asked sourly. It seemed Sheppard had found yet another way to limit his IOA contact. "Carson wanted Sheppard in the infirmary and he only allowed him to return to his own quarters by issuing strict instructions Sheppard should have complete bed rest, barring an emergency. And the last time I looked, we weren't sinking."

"He gave Sheppard those pills," Ronon inserted.

Not that Sheppard would have taken them without coercion, Rodney was sure. "Ronon's right. Those pills have knocked him out. Maybe even for a full day." Rodney checked his watch. He was actually checking the interval until the Daedalus arrived; he knew the ship's position from their latest subspace message. So, how long to 'hang in there' until Twiddle was out of their hair?

"Sheppard'll be here for lunch," Ronon assured Teyla.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"John is not here. Are you still unconcerned?"

Rodney considered Teyla's question as she set her food tray on the table. Sheppard's absence was a bit...disturbing. Not alarming, exactly. Carson had purposely given Colonel Won't-Stay-In-Bed something to make certain he did stay in bed. How long would a dose of whatever-it-was last? Rodney finished chewing and looked at Ronon...who stared back unhelpfully.

"I understand that John must rest because he has not had undisturbed sleep since returning, but this is most unlike him. He does not stay inactive, even in times when he has had an injury that must heal." Teyla had sat down across from Rodney, but she showed no interest in beginning her meal.

Rodney had spent the morning using a toddler's vocabulary to explain to Aunt Madge certain aspects of Ancient technology and he was in no mood to be led into chasing down an errant colonel who could be as stubborn as any two-year old. "You know what he'll say ~ 'I'm good', and then we'll be in trouble because we got him out of bed and the city isn't sinking." Rodney put it back in Teyla's court: "Why don't you go ask the good doctor how long those pills will keep him under?"

"He'll be here for dinner," Ronon said confidently.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Rodney hurried down the hall. He'd stopped only long enough to grab his tablet and a connector from his lab. He planned to be long gone before Teyla finished speaking with Carson. And no matter what Carson told her about the medication, it wasn't like Sheppard to sleep away the day. As he rounded the corner Rodney came to an abrupt halt.

Teyla turned from her position in front of Sheppard's door. She evidently hadn't taken the time to speak with the doctor but had come directly to Sheppard's quarters after lunch. "I am glad you are here. He does not answer."

Rodney paused. It was one thing to check quietly on his own, but he didn't want to seem like a Nervous Nellie about Sheppard in case nothing was wrong. Before Rodney could make up his mind what to do, Ronon came around the corner. Evidently the big guy hadn't waited either, despite his assurance to Teyla that Sheppard would be present at the dinner table.

With a straightened back Rodney marched to the door control panel and removed the cover. He established the connection, typed a few keys, and opened the door.

"John?" Teyla called. She entered the room far enough to give a quick perusal of the space. "He is not here."

What Rodney noticed was the temperature. The room was dark, but uncomfortably hot.

Teyla turned on the overhead light to make a complete and thorough inspection. "Why is it so hot?"

Ronon commented, "Maybe he left because of the heat."

"Why would the city systems malfunction like this?" Teyla asked. "And why would John not report it?" She pointed to the top of the nightstand. "He does not have his radio."

Rodney wasn't paying attention. He tapped a few keys and looked up at his teammates. "Sheppard did it. The temperature was purposely set at thirty-seven degrees. That's significant." He met the two blank stares. "It's the normal temperature of a human body. Sheppard's telling us something."

"Someone took him," Ronon stated.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Part of the problem was he still felt a bit groggy; he should've palmed Beckett's pills instead of swallowing them. Of course, even under normal circumstances abruptly rousing from sleep in the middle of the night didn't promote clarity of thought. John breathed evenly to clear his head and mentally requested another temperature rise from the room's environmental control. He felt the city's resistance, more than before, as if Atlantis knew such heat was not appropriate when humans occupied a space.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"Rodney!" Teyla shouted after him and grabbed his arm to stop him as he headed down the hall. "Where are you going?"

Rodney took a deep breath. They didn't have time for this. "I need to go to my lab to check the city sensors."

"Will not the city sensors show only our life signs? Can you find his transmitter?" Teyla inquired.

They really didn't have time for this. "Not without Asgard technology." Rodney turned and started down the hallway again.

Teyla was half-jogging. "We cannot wait for the Daedalus."

"What will the sensors tell us?" Ronon asked on the go.

They really did not have time for this! "Sheppard wouldn't have left just one clue," Rodney explained and increased speed.

Once in his laboratory it took only a few moments and keystrokes to find what Rodney wanted. "There," he pointed.

"What is it?" Ronon wanted to know.

"This is using thermal sensors. It's another room at thirty-seven degrees. And..." Rodney hit more keys. "It's empty. There are no life signs." Rodney felt deflated; that wasn't what he was expecting, although the occupants could have left because of the heat. "But..." More typing. "The room is assigned to Captain Urich." Even Rodney couldn't miss the look that passed between his teammates. "What! What is it?!"

Teyla looked worried. "Captain Urich is the Marine John is intending to send home on the Daedalus."

"We all agreed," Ronon added. "He wasn't fitting in."

"He had become more isolated and quiet," Teyla nodded. "It was almost a sullen attitude."

Now Rodney was alarmed. "Do you think he knew he was going back? He took Sheppard as some kind of revenge?" The unthinkable glimmered at the edge of Rodney's mind and he could barely voice the words. "Would this man hurt him?"

"We do not know that, Rodney," Teyla said calmly. "What we do know is John is missing and we must find him."

"I'll tell Lorne," Ronon told Teyla. "Be back with walkies."

And just like that he was gone. Rodney stared in dismay. "Wait! We have to set up search teams! Where's he going?"

"Rodney, Major Lorne will be expecting us for training exercises. Ronon has gone to tell him why we will not be present. And the major knows the captain and can perhaps give us additional information. We cannot involve too many people until we know what is happening. And we cannot use our radios in case the captain can monitor our communications." Teyla paused, to see if her statements had effect. "Now, since there are no more overheated rooms, how can we find John?"

"Shouldn't we tell Elizabeth?" Rodney asked quietly.

"If we tell her, she will be obligated to inform the IOA. We must handle this ourselves."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John stretched his back and tried to roll his shoulders against the wall. He was stiff, tired and his butt was asleep; sitting on the floor had deadened his legs. Not to mention his benumbed hands under his thighs. He wanted to shift position, but any movement or an attempt at conversation had spiked the tension.

Across from John sat Captain Urich, who alternated between staring at John and rising to his feet in order to pace. The captain had an impressive military record. John had gone over it more than once, trying to decide if any good would come from allowing the Marine more time in the city, until the next Daedalus trip. Only the best were ever assigned to the SGC, and from there, the best of the best went on to Pegasus, but records and reports couldn't predict when someone was unable to adjust. Of course, this was more than not fitting in ~ abducting the CO took planning and preparation; the seasoned soldier had done both. And it required a reason that John still hadn't managed to learn.

To keep things low-key John avoided direct eye contact, but he could tell when the captain was looking his way. John was reminded that for days he'd felt as if he were being watched.

John requested more heat and felt Atlantis resist. Urich looked toward the closed door, as if he'd heard something or someone, then he wiped his forehead; the man was in full kit and the room had to be nearing eighty degrees.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"I don't have full sensor access from here." Rodney spoke as he typed. "And there are parts of the city where the sensors don't work. The Replicators were more interested in making the city flight worthy than in making internal repairs. It's how O'Neill and Woolsey were able to stay hidden."

Teyla leaned in closer to study the computer screen. "Can we find them if we know they are in an area without sensors?"

Rodney almost snorted. "The short answer is 'no' because it would take a lot of manpower a lot of time to search that much territory. They could be in the flooded parts of the city, under the city in maintenance areas, out at the edges, wherever." The computer beeped. "We're in luck. Sort of. I've run a count of all life signs against the personnel manifest and it's a match. That means Sheppard's still alive and they're in an area we can monitor. Unfortunately it's a lot larger than the area without sensors."

Teyla waited while Rodney typed, then finally asked, "What are you looking for now?"

"Groups of twos." Rodney had located about a dozen duos. "Most personnel will be in bunches. Medical, military, kitchen, laundry, labs. There aren't that many in twos, except security."

"What if the captain hid John somewhere and then he left? We cannot guess at his purpose."

"I can look for isolated dots as well. Ones and twos."

Ronon arrived and distributed the walkie-talkies. "Lorne got this from the armory." The big guy spun a Wraith stun-pistol like a six-shooter then handed it to Teyla. "Lorne said Urich told his friends he was going to report to the infirmary last night. Headache. He's not there. No one's seen him since dinner."

Teyla slowly tilted her head in confusion. "What can he hope to gain by kidnapping John? It does not make sense."

"That's the point," Rodney responded. He was still typing. "He doesn't make sense. In other words, we're looking for a well trained soldier who's a couple rounds short of a full clip."

Ronon peered at the screen. "Anything?"

Rodney shook his head. "There are too many single dots and doubles for you two to track them down and I'd have to stay here to relay the information and monitor any change–"

Change. That would do it. Of course it was going to be complicated because they only had one ZedPM...

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

The headache was getting worse, the result of the concentration required to remain calm in the presence of Urich's anxiety. John closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. He couldn't defuse the situation because he didn't know what the captain wanted. John wasn't even certain the Marine was acting alone; Urich periodically looked to the closed door, as if in expectation.

John still had no clues. For any soldier the situation made no sense, but the captain had been severely injured in action and had fought all the odds to continue his career in the military. And now to throw it all away?

"Sir?"

John opened his eyes and straightened away from the wall. He leveled his gaze. "Yes, Captain?"

"The Wraith are a serious threat."

John blinked. Oh-kay. Where was this going? "Yes, they are."

"So why spend ten days doing nothing? We need every trained unit out there, fighting the Wraith."

John said nothing. He didn't disagree with the captain, but he couldn't follow the man's train of thought.

Urich stood to make his point. "We didn't come here to sit in classes. Like raw recruits we're told to go back through some kind of basic training. I've gone up against the Goa'uld and the Ori. Why aren't we already out there, using that expertise?"

Was that what this was all about? Resentment? That a man with a long list of awards and citations was not being properly valued for his experience? John had almost visited the captain in his quarters to have an informal discussion about other postings. A transfer back to the SGC wasn't a black mark, but perhaps it would have seemed so to a spit-and-polish Marine. Had Urich guessed he was going home? Would a quiet conversation regarding career choices have preempted this rash act?

It was long past lunch; John's empty belly kept prompting him. John nudged the temperature upward and kept a wary eye on his captor. He felt Atlantis 'pushing back' at the heat increase, which was beyond the comfort zone. John knew Urich had to be roasting. The agitated man rubbed his brow, then the captain rose to listen at the door, mumbling, "Something's wrong."

John didn't respond. For whatever reason this was playing out, John counted on Rodney to find him and on Teyla to keep the situation contained. The last thing he needed was an escalation. He'd known for days he'd probably have to send the captain home and he didn't want it to be in a body bag.

Helluva week.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"McKay, what's going on?!"

Rodney didn't stop typing or answer Ronon's question.

"Rodney, please tell us what you are doing," Teyla ordered politely. "Have you found a way to locate John?"

"Yes, and no." Rodney glanced at his teammates and hurried on with his explanation when he spied Ronon's impatient glare. "Sheppard set his environmental control at exactly thirty-seven degrees. And I assume he did that after he was taken. I found the second room because I looked for exactly thirty-seven degrees. The two either left that room because of the heat or Sheppard knew the location of Urich's room and he managed to have Atlantis set the temperature at thirty-seven remotely."

"We know this," Ronon argued.

Rodney raised a finger. "So, what would Sheppard do for his next clue? He can't keep heating rooms to thirty-seven. They'd have to leave, and if heat drove them away before, Urich would grow suspicious." Rodney looked at his audience and prompted, "Slow, small increments." They still didn't get it. "I'm designing a search for rooms with slowly increasing temperatures over the last several hours. Since last night. Slow enough Urich wouldn't notice, but steady enough that it's a definite pattern."

"Rodney, that is wonderful," Teyla encouraged.

"How long?" Ronon asked.

"Well, there is a problem," Rodney admitted. "Two problems, actually. And this would be easier with three ZedPMs."

"McKay!" Ronon barked.

"I'm not complaining. Not exactly," Rodney allowed, "but this is a perfect example of why we need the ZedPMs."

"Rodney! Please continue," Teyla commanded.

"Look, I found Urich's room because I asked for a match. I'm not looking for a match anymore. Temperatures throughout the city fluctuate despite overall environmental control. With one ZedPM the sensors don't have the depth to look everywhere for that one room that has had a steady rise in temperature." Rodney sighed. "It's like having insufficient memory in your computer. If you enter all the data and ask the computer to display a graph, it'll only show an outline because it doesn't have the memory to show every individual point. But you can display the graph in smaller sections." He gestured to the screen. "I'm programming the computer to check the data since last night to find a slow temperature increase wherever there are currently one or two dots. And the second problem is, this would be easier at the Ancient console in the Control Room, but Elizabeth advised us, um, suggested we make ourselves scarce until Great-Aunt Madge departs. From here, I can't tap into the kind of sensor information I need without it showing up on the Ancient console and whoever is on duty will inform Elizabeth. If you want to keep her out of this, someone has to go to the Control Room."

Teyla picked up her walkie. "Major Lorne, this is Teyla."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

It wasn't really funny, although John could see humor in his situation. Rodney had been right; it was always something. One incident after another, and trouble could come out of the blue. This week had been worse than usual, if there was a 'usual' in Pegasus.

John considered hiking the temperature another small notch, but he assumed McKay didn't need more clues and the room was already uncomfortable. Atlantis had almost balked at the last increases and the control required was giving John a headache.

The matter of real concern was the duffel that was already in the room when the captain and John arrived. Urich's behavior had slowly become more uneven, a nervous reaction to whatever the man thought he heard or was expecting beyond the door. Eventually the Marine had taken a handgun from the bag. What else had he stockpiled? And for what purpose? John knew the hideout was near an access port to secondary conduits. By design? Did Urich know the city's layout and was there a larger plan?

From John's position on the floor the captain seemed a mammoth of a man. The Marine had spent months in rehab and clearly had done more than enough to regain his physical strength.

John monitored Urich by watching the captain's trouser legs as the man paced back and forth within the confined space. He stopped in front of John and John raised his head.

"As CO you're supposed to be in charge. You're not supposed to let the IOA run everything. What have you been doing?" The question was an accusation.

"Sitting on my hands."

"You think you're funny." Urich stared down at his commanding officer. "Sir, I'm respectfully reminding you that your job is to protect this city. Your _mission_ is to protect the city and we can't do that if we sit around and never go off-world."

John reconsidered. He'd thought the root of the discord was resentment on the captain's part that his experience was ignored, but it seemed the IOA's interference and John's lax style of command were also in play.

The Marine lowered to his haunches in front of John. "At first I thought to bring the IOA man, but then I realized he's already leaving on the Daedalus. Besides, he's not really in charge." Captain Urich looked down and hefted the weapon in his hand. "You can't be here. The city has to be released from your command because Atlantis is under my control."

The fuzz at the nape of John's neck stood on end. Oh, crap. At least it now made some kind of sense.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"Oh, no. This guy makes Rambo look like Bambi." Rodney was paging through the captain's military record. "Compared to Captain Crazy, the Terminator is an underachiever!" He glanced up at his teammates and thought better of trying to explain his comments. "This is bad. I mean, really bad. Sheppard is in the hands of someone who could take him out with just one hand."

"Sheppard can take care of himself," Ronon declared.

"With bantu rods or fast talk, but this guy is off the rails." Rodney was reading as fast as he could. "You never said he's huge!" Rodney looked seriously at his friends. "If he snaps..." Rodney snapped his fingers, then gestured with his hands and broke an imaginary twig in two. "Sheppard's a molehill against a mountain. A huge, well-trained, crazy mountain."

Teyla held her walkie to her ear. "He is almost in place."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Chuck was in the midst of the normal routine of monitoring power distribution and updating logs. It wasn't the most exciting part of his job, but in Pegasus, one never knew. He noticed a slight change in the power curve and realized the sensors were being accessed and coverage was being reassigned.

In Pegasus, one never knew. It was probably Dr. McKay, who had forgotten to inform Ops of whatever he was doing, but protocol required that Dr. Weir, and possibly Colonel Sheppard, be informed when any changes in power or sensors occurred.

Chuck had taken only two steps away from his desk when he saw Major Lorne come bounding up the stairs, carrying a walkie-talkie. The coincidence was not to be overlooked.

The major shook his head slightly as he neared, indicating he didn't want to discuss openly whatever it was. Chuck was aware there were several 'projects' going on below the IOA's radar. The way Chuck saw it, since their return to Atlantis they'd been performing useless sweeps of the city on the IOA's orders, as if the IOA guy didn't trust city sensors. Just imagining the little man's face, Chuck figured it would almost be worth it to find a Replicator hiding in a closet. Like everyone else Chuck was just waiting for the Daedalus to arrive and the IOA to leave. He waited to hear what Major Lorne wanted him to do.

There wasn't time for the major to explain what was happening before Dr. Weir and the IOA rat crossed the bridge from Weir's office. "Major?" she asked. "You need to see me?"

Chuck was pretty sure it wasn't Dr. Weir but her pet ferret who wanted to know the why of the major's presence. The IOA guy stood slightly behind the doctor, sniffing like a bird dog.

"No, ma'am," Major Lorne replied. He turned a little, enough Chuck saw, to hide the sleight of hand required to slip the walkie into his trouser pocket. "I came to see Chuck."

"Is something wrong?" the IOA representative asked.

"I came to tell Chuck that Dr. McKay is working with the city sensors," the major countered, never actually answering the question as to whether something was wrong.

And Chuck could tell Dr. Weir understood the significance of the non-answer. Whatever was going on, she knew the major was trying to keep her out of it.

"Shall we return to my office?" Dr. Weir gestured the little man back across the bridge.

The little man was not to be diverted. "Why didn't Dr. McKay inform Chuck himself? And where is Colonel Sheppard?"

Again the major replied with a non-answer. "Colonel Sheppard is indisposed. You will recall he was under doctor's orders."

Chuck stepped over to his console and sat down. After a few keystrokes he could follow Dr. McKay's activity. The senior scientist was accessing the environmental control logs in certain rooms, going back twenty hours.

In position at the console Chuck quite literally had a new perspective. He watched the trio in the tableau. The major and Dr. Weir offered no additional information, and the IOA representative was silent in confusion. And suspicion, no doubt.

The little man looked from the major to Dr. Weir. He firmed his weak chin. "I want to know what is going on here."

Chuck had to give him points for never raising his voice. The man was very irritating while always being extremely polite.

Dr. Weir nodded once, minutely, at Major Lorne, giving him her consent. The major spoke evenly. "We believe Colonel Sheppard is being held against his will."

"Held against his will," the IOA guy repeated. He looked at Dr. Weir. "And you knew about this?"

"I am aware of the situation." Dr. Weir's answer was another non-answer. Chuck admired her way with words.

"The military commander of this base has been abducted. By whom? What is being done?"

Major Lorne looked straight across at the IOA guy, a level gaze from eye to eye. "It's under control."

"This is a hostage situation. Do we know the abductor? Is he armed?" The little man would not let the subject drop.

Dr. Weir looked questioningly at the major, who reluctantly informed her, without naming names, the abductor was armed.

The IOA representative turned to address Dr. Weir. "You should be doing something. You're an experienced negotiator."

"And with that experience I know when a situation requires a negotiator." Dr. Weir allowed the bald declaration to stand alone.

"According to procedures employed by multiple agencies there should be a negotiating team assembled, in addition to a strike team, personnel for extraction and, if necessary, recovery." The little man had used up all his breath.

The major took a single step, which placed him closer to Dr. Weir and more directly opposed to the IOA representative. Quietly, calmly he repeated, "It's under control."

Chuck had never considered it, but Major Lorne was not a very big man. In fact, in height and build the two men were much alike, yet the major towered over the IOA representative.

The ferret was not to be gainsaid. "These people are in your charge. Do you intend to do nothing?" he asked of Dr. Weir.

"I intend to let my people handle it," Dr. Weir replied.

"You have an armed hostage situation. There are rules for such contingencies," the little man insisted, politely but firmly.

Chuck tuned out the droning noise of a long list of perceived infractions and failures of Dr. Weir, followed by a longer list of regulations relayed verbatim. Chuck concentrated on the screen to observe the two fast-moving, purposeful dots as they neared, paused and then quickly entered a space containing two stationary dots. A moment later Major Lorne's walkie squawked.

The major took the radio from his pocket and requested a repeat. "They've got him," he told Dr. Weir.

Chuck observed the IOA man carefully. His face was flushed during the long, non-stop recitation of rules to apply in a hostage situation and what should be involved for a safe resolution. Chuck didn't know there was such a list or that anyone could remember it all, let alone quote it without taking a single breath. The man stopped speaking when the walkie sounded. At Major Lorne's announcement the little man's mouth shut abruptly.

Chuck realized he still hadn't heard the ferret take a breath.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"You're kinda late," John commented. The captain had been pacing, talking to himself, as if trying to give himself a pep talk. A flash of red from Ronon's blaster and the agitated soldier went down in a crumpled heap at the big guy's feet.

"How are you feeling, John?" Teyla's voice held a smile. She walked over and leaned down to feel the captain's pulse.

"Hot. Hungry." John raised a hand for Ronon to help him to his feet. "I wanna cold shower and a hot meal." When he tried to stand John felt the results of hours of uncomfortable inactivity. "Awh," he moaned and started a rough massage to remove the pins and needles in his legs. He aimed his chin at the fallen man. "Better get Beckett down here to look at him."

"And to look at you as well," Teyla stated firmly.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"How is he, Carson?" John asked quietly. As rough as the last couple weeks had been on himself, the captain looked as if he'd been through worse. The man's jaw was immobilized, with something inserted to separate the upper and lower teeth. He was connected to tubes and monitors, was pale and looked distressed, even while unconscious. "He's a good soldier. Exemplary career, 'til now. I'd hate for this experience to ruin him."

The doctor made a notation on his tablet. "Once he's away from Atlantis, I think he'll be fine." He look at John. "An argument can easily be made to overlook this."

"How so?"

"Have ye seen his medical record, Colonel?"

"I know his chopper went down. He spent a lotta months coming back from that," John replied in sympathy.

"Aye, he did. And he's had extensive dental work."

John didn't see the connection. "You telling me if I didn't practice good oral hygiene I'd be in a similar situation? The city would drive me nuts?"

The doctor smiled slightly. "It's a bit more than that, I'm afraid. His helicopter was fired on. External blast pressure, as I'm sure ye know." Beckett led the way over to his desk and gestured John to a seat. "The captain suffered a pressure injury, combined with concussion." The doctor paged through a file on his tablet. "Broken jaw, missing teeth, damage to his right ear. Numerous other injuries, but the significant ones have to do with his head. There's a lot of scar tissue and there's a lot of metal."

"But he was cleared for active duty," John clarified.

"Aye, he's perfectly healthy, but scar tissue isn't like normal tissue. Specifically, it's non-conductive. And there's a lot of wiring in his jaw and metal implants. We don't exactly know how the ATA field works, but I'm guessing the scarring or the metal or the combination of the two causes a kind of distortion. He's been better since we wrapped his jaw." The doctor looked at his patient. "I wouldn't say his time's been as bad as yers, but he's been verra uncomfortable since his arrival in Atlantis."

"So why was he assigned here?" John picked up a food pellet and dropped it into the terrarium sitting on the back corner of the desk. One of the doctor's turtles moved lazily over to investigate.

"The SGC only administers the gene therapy and checks for the ATA gene once people are assigned to Atlantis. Being able to activate an Ancient device is not the same as being surrounded by the permanent field generated by the city." Beckett tapped keys and perused a list on the screen. "We haven't gotten to the last part of the alphabet ~ Nolan was the last one we ran through our tests here in Atlantis, but I suspect if we could test Captain Urich, we'd find he has a strong expression of the gene."

John looked over at the bed in the distance. The captain was uneasy in his drug-induced sleep, still conflicted about being a good soldier and the relentless urge to act for reasons he didn't comprehend. "He reacted each time I increased the heat. He might even have caused the resistance I felt. Gave me a headache."

"I'd venture to say he has quite literally been going out of his mind since he got here. Yer interpretations of the city's warnings were like dreams ~ not recognized as warnings but not fundamentally overwriting yer sense of reality. Captain Urich was 'hearing' the warnings, but his reception was altering his perception and personality. Being exposed to the ATA field was like being given a mind-altering drug." Beckett eyed the man in the bed. "It's quite likely he won't remember any of this once he's away from Atlantis and her influence."

John leveled his gaze at the Scot. "Too bad he's so allergic to tuttle-root spores. They're so prevalent in this galaxy."

Dr. Carson Beckett didn't miss a beat. "Aye, such a shame, when it prevents him from going on missions in Pegasus. A medical order to return to the SGC will, I'm sure, put him back to work in the Milky Way in exemplary standing."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"I can tell you, I am starved," John declared as he set his well-laden tray onto the dining table.

Teyla smiled. "Yes, we can see that."

Ronon looked pleased with himself. "I told you Sheppard would be here for dinner." He grinned at Teyla, then stabbed a large slab of meat on his plate.

"Where's Elizabeth's ever-present shadow?" John gave a quick scan of the verandah before sitting down. The fresh breeze rolling off the ocean smelled as good as the food on his plate.

"In his quarters," Rodney answered as he chewed. "Probably sedated, based on the way he looked when I last saw him."

"I heard he is having his meals sent to his room," Teyla inserted. There was a slight jest in her intonation.

"What?! How did he manage that?" McKay demanded.

"He'd better come out in time to leave on the Daedalus," Ronon threatened in a low growl.

"I doubt we'll hear a peep out of him until he says his goodbyes from aboard the Daedalus...and halfway back to Earth." John took his first bite and closed his eyes in appreciation.

Rodney smirked. "Elizabeth sort of asked Caldwell to rush things, so the Daedalus may just arrive a bit early."

"Let's hope it leaves early, too," Ronon added.

"John, how is Captain Urich?" Teyla inquired.

After swallowing another savored mouthful John answered, "Beckett thinks he won't remember a thing." John finished with determination, "But with his allergies he can't stay in Pegasus. Once he's away from here, he'll be back to himself."

Teyla nodded. "I agree. A good man should not have to put up with the inconvenience of severe allergies."

Rodney looked back and forth between John and Teyla. "I didn't know he had allergies. I thought Ancient tech– Oh."

"I think we must all make an effort to relax," Teyla advised, with an obvious attempt to change the subject. "I would enjoy sharing the calming effect of meditation."

"Not me," Ronon uttered between chews. "Hunting trip."

John gestured. "With Zelenka on the mainland, right?"

"You want to join us?" Ronon asked.

John shook his head while he was still chewing. "I'm just gonna chill. Takes things slow and easy. Nice and calm."

"The calm before another storm," Rodney muttered. "Is no one paying attention here? We've been in the Pegasus frying pan three times this week! I'd like to spend some time frying before landing in the next fire," he concluded testily.

John observed the two blank faces. He explained, "It's an expression. Going from one bad situation to the next."

"And the next one is worse than the previous one!" McKay continued his grievance. "And this wouldn't happen if we had all three ZedPMs. In fact, if we had Asgard technology, I'd have been able to locate you right away." He paused in thought. "I can make a very good argument for all three ZedPMs. Do you think Elizabeth would consider Asgard technology in Atlantis?"

John turned his gaze out to sea as Rodney droned on. There was a soothing property to lights sparkling on rolling waves. John thought of the beach, maybe some surfing, a little sunshine. He closed his eyes and realized the musical quality of Atlantis's hum was there. No discordant note from nightmares or ominous warnings or the foreboding feeling that he was being watched. Two-and-a-half weeks of being on edge, not knowing why, and misinterpreting the city's lack of harmony.

John took a deep breath. Things were back to normal. Or as normal as it ever was in Pegasus. He'd spoken with both Lorne and Chuck about the confrontation. John didn't think there'd be any repercussion from the IOA, but he'd back his people to the wall. Lorne downplayed his role, but according to Chuck, 'The IOA guy nearly peed his pants' when Lorne stood his ground.

And there it was. John smiled to himself. He was as bad as Rodney. To be on the safe side, he'd avoid all contact with the IOA representative. He didn't think he could make himself un-remember 'Mr. Piddle'. *~*

...

Author's Note: When I was writing 'Underlying Cause' I thought, hmm, how did the Replicators take over Atlantis if Helia still had control of the city, which was the basis of 'Override'. Then when I was writing 'Ovrr' I thought, hmm, why did they never seem to have a 'bad egg' in the bunch, someone who couldn't handle the isolation or stress of being in Pegasus / Atlantis? I suppose this story could take place most anytime, but it had to be late enough that Sheppard had a reputation (unorthodox, and can survive a nuke trip into a Hive, fly Darts, withstand a Queen's interrogation, etc), but early enough that back at the SGC the new recruits didn't truly know yet what they were getting into when assigned to the more informal environment in Atlantis (recall that even Carter was somewhat surprised at the relaxed protocol when she took command).

Language explanation: the idiom 'Out of the frying pan, Into the fire' means to go from one predicament straight into another predicament.

For Iuvsbruce, a belated birthday gift, and for her other half, who has put up with all manner of phone calls and has even made his own contribution when the conversation has shifted to anomalous topics.

Feedback is always appreciated.

Thanks for reading.


End file.
